Some Sort of Glitch

by Wade Adrian

  Max looked back outside toward where the fire had been. Still nothing. "I assumed it would be an upgrade."

  "Yeah, by a lot." Tom removed his silly leather helmet and plunked the metal one down over his ears.

  "Hey, don't get my soup bowl dirty."

  "It really could be." It seemed too big, Tom's eyes barely visible under the rim. "Kinda smells like it, too." He found the new bag, which he opened. "Huh. Where did you get all this?"

  "I saw a fire in the night. Figured I could do a quick jaunt. This place is almost invisible from the outside."

  "Yar found it."

  "Found you, you mean. Doubt she was poking her head into every cave on the mountain."

  "Fair."

  Max turned his eyes back outside. "You'll forgive me if I'm not willing to place my life entirely in the hands of your... god."

  Tom nodded as he chewed on a wheel of cheese. "Me neither."

  "So I thought maybe there were people out there. Just more bandits."

  The cleric narrowed his eyes at the assassin. "You went questing without me?"

  "No. There were too many for that, and they were asleep. So I just took their stuff. Figured we needed it more."

  "Huh."

  Max wandered in and sat by the fire. No one was going to take them unaware now anyway. "What's up?"

  "You found sleeping NPCs. In the wild."

  "Yeah?"

  "They don't do that. NPCs in towns with houses sleep because it's part of their daily cycle of stuff to do. The ones outside, mobs especially, never sleep because their cycle only includes standing around and fighting people."

  "Look, I get that something is weird, sure, but I'm not buying that the AI is becoming sentient. We simply don't have the processing power for that. I mean, not for one, let alone the hundreds of thousands of NPCs walking around in this game."

  "And yet NPCs don't sleep."

  "Maybe these ones do. Part of a quest."

  Tom stood up, shouldering the new mace. "Then lets find out. Show me. I'm sure the two of us can take them. We could use the experience."

  Max picked up the discarded leather helmet and put it on under his hood. He stood with a sigh. "I guess."

  A fools errand. It simply wasn't possible, no matter what the creepy kid said.

  The camp wasn't as easy to find without the light. Snow had started up again in the night, hiding Max's footprints better than he ever could. It had only taken him a few minutes to get there before, but it was half an hour of searching in the right direction.

  The snow on top didn't help. It had been a clearing before. Even the fire pit was cold enough for snow to have settled.

  Yet there was plenty that was unsettling here.

  A naked man was staked to the ground with daggers through his hands and feet. Snow had started to settle on him, too. He was cold enough that this couldn't have happened in the last few hours.

  Max hadn't heard a thing. They must have gagged him. Or it was done while he was...

  Sapped.

  The word, "Failure" was carved across his chest in giant letters.

  Max turned away. He was on the cusp of vomiting.

  Tom knelt beside the man, prodding him with his mace. "Well, I guess they're literate."

  "You can not be joking about this."

  "I'm not." Tom shrugged. "A genuine observation." He turned his eyes, looking over the camp. "Been awhile. Guess they woke up, maybe when the fire died. Noticed they had been robbed. Poor guy was probably supposed to be the sentry."

  "Yes. He was."

  "So much for honor among thieves." Tom stood. "So they killed him then took off into the night?" He pointed at a set of deep prints the new snow hadn't completely filled. "That way."

  Northwest.

  Max shook his head. "Why kill him?"

  Tom tilted his head a bit. "Well, I'm going out on a limb here but... I think they might have considered him a failure."

  "But this hurts them. They're down a pair of hands and eyes. Someone to fight with them. I couldn't have taken four, but I probably could have handled three."

  "Illogical. Sounds like bandits."

  Max scoffed. "They're NPCs. Where in their logic does it include killing their own for getting robbed or letting the fire die?"

  "It doesn't. But I could see human bandits doing it. Their logic also doesn't include sleeping at regular intervals. Or at least, it didn't."

  "So instead they wander off in the dark?"

  "That one... is either impulsive or maybe their old way of thinking kicking in. Yar said they were growing, that doesn't mean they changed entirely overnight."

  Max stood where the footprints started out of the camp. "So they ran out of food... they'd be going to get more."

  "Which means they know where to get some, and felt confident enough to get there even in the dark." Tom nodded.

  "So more bandits, or someone they can take it from."

  "I like it. Makes us look heroic either way, and it's even the right direction."

  Max grunted. "If we're fast enough."

  "Drag your feet if you like. Me? I want answers, and those are at the shrine. If we find a few heads to bust along the way, happy to do it." Tom stomped along beside the trail. His feet made their usual deep ruts in the snow.

  Max looked back at the dead bandit.

  It was his fault.

  He hadn't want this.

  Granted, the man would have killed him if he had the chance but... dying in a fight was better than what they had done to him, and for something that wasn't his fault.

  He knelt and pushed snow over the man's face.

  It was all he could do.

  "Just an NPC. A bandit." He muttered to himself.

  He'd died in fear and agony.

  Excuses rang hollow.

  The sun peaked through the clouds high overhead when they found the bandit fort. Max didn't have a better word for it. It was a set of wooden walls blocking off a section of a sheer stone valley. It was clearly meant to be defensible and intimidating. If it had ever had another purpose, it didn't now.

  Skulls were set on top of several of the log posts making up the walls. Some of them were from bears, or wolves. Some were human.

  A single flag hung limp in the air overhead. Just a field of red, no symbols to be had.

  The tracks they had been following lead straight down to the gate.

  "Well, that's a relief."

  Tom gave Max a side eyed look. "What?"

  "Bandits. Lots of them. Better than them burning some farmhouse and eating people."

  "I don't think cannibalism was on the table or they would have stayed with the last guy." Tom crossed his arms as he looked at the log walls. "Well, it's in our way regardless. The road goes through, and we're nowhere near the shrine yet. Doubt we could find a way around in a timely fashion. And, as you pointed out last night, we need to get this done so we have food left for the trip back."

  "Would you like to knock, or shall I?"

  Tom shrugged. "Depends. How do you feel about knifing a few?"

  The frozen bandit's face had been haunting Max all morning. "Figure I can manage."

  "Good. Find a vantage point, get us a head count. We'll make a plan."

  Max ducked into stealth and slipped closer to the wall, simple enough with all the points he had invested. He'd been practicing a bit and found that if he was careful about where he stepped he didn't leave deep footprints.

  The wall itself... was another matter. Without a ladder or a grappling hook he wasn't getting in over the top.

  There were some narrow gaps between the logs though. Shoddy construction. Maybe the bandits had made it after all. Or it was just old and due for replacement posts

  He could see at least a dozen milling around inside, and that was with parts of the place hidden from view by a few interior buildings. Storage or sleeping quarters.

  Max made his way back to where Tom was waiting to relay what he had found.

  Tom tug
ged at his beard. "That's quite a few. Likely more you couldn't see."

  "If they really are getting smarter I doubt we can use line of sight or face pulling. They'll call everyone."

  "Mmm." Tom nodded.

  "Finding a way around might be the better play here."

  "That's quitter talk." Tom hefted his mace. "What's the level spread?"

  "I dunno. Some higher, some lower. Mostly it's the amount that's the problem. Even if I could get over, I'd get one or two before being swarmed. And I'd be locked inside."

  "Wow. That's a really dumb idea..."

  "Yeah, that's why I said it that way."

  "No." Tom shook his head. "I mean my idea."

  Max sighed as he waited by the gate, invisible to the naked eye. "This is stupid." He muttered to himself.

  Tom was walking up the path to the gate, not making even a token gesture to hide himself.

  Max could hear people on the other side talking. They'd seen him.

  They didn't exactly sound worried.

  There was some laughter.

  Tom stopped twenty or so paces from the gate. "Woe be unto thee, scoundrels!" He held his hands high. "For Caddrach, the first of Yar, the God of Lost Marbles has found your den of inequity!"

  Max narrowed his eyes. When Tom had said he'd just "act like a paladin," this hadn't exactly been what Max had in mind. This was clearly an exaggeration.

  "I don't sound like that..." Max muttered.

  Iniquity? Really?

  Who says that?

  The wall creaked slightly as a few heads appeared over the top. "Get lost, robe jockey. Bad luck to kill a priest. Count your blessings and get gone."

  Not generally something an NPC would say...

  This whole thing was just getting too confusing.

  Tom pointed his mace at the men on the wall. "The righteous justice of Yar be upon you. Come forth, and let her radiance shine! Repent, and ye might yet be saved."

  The words "crazy," "nuts," and "idiot" were bandied about the other side of the wall like tennis balls.

  Well, they weren't wrong.

  Max gave this plan about a twenty percent chance of success. It was what they had gone with, though, since he didn't have anything better. Or at all, really.

  So far it wasn't exactly going swimmingly.

  "Murder!" Tom shook his mace at the sky. "Murder most foul! One of you within killed a poor man just last night. I found him in the snow, and I swore Yar's vengeance upon those that would take a man's pants in the cold! I mean really, that's low!"

  Specifics seemed to get more of a response. A different voice appeared above. "We're all murderers in here. Everyone knows that. Now get lost, or we'll show you."

  Several voices rose in agreement.

  Others did not. Talk of bad luck climbed and fell as others talked over them.

  Max heard the familiar sound of wood scraping on wood as bows were drawn somewhere above. He could see arrows sticking out over the top... pointed at Tom.

  "Tch. Stand down." The man above pushed off the wall. "We'd just have to go pick up the arrows, and probably lose some in the snow. You want a fight, priest? Fine. I'll bash his head in."

  The bows were lowered.

  Tom laughed. "Yar has foreseen my great victory! Thank you, great lord of marbles!"

  There were grumbles on the far side.

  "Bad luck."

  "There are twenty of us, what is he going to do?"

  "Still bad luck."

  The gate rattled slightly.

  Tom made no move to approach it, still several paces out.

  The gate creaked as it was opened.

  A large man stepped out. He looked a lot like the man who had lead the bandits the night before. The one missing a helmet and mace, which were presently being lauded in front of him.

  Might have been part of his desire to fight.

  As soon as the man was clear of the gate Max ducked inside. The bandit had two levels on Tom, and he was a caster. His only real hope without Max to help was to outlast the bandit with heals.

  Not a great plan.

  Everyone seemed distracted with what was going on outside, several people pushing in close to see out the gate.

  Good. Max made his way to the ladder leading to the top of the wall. It had slick wooden rails, but it was simple enough to make his way up.

  He found two archers, as expected. Another man was waiting up top, too. Watching the cleric below.

  Three. He could handle three... probably.

  The large bandit out front held a great sword as tall as himself with one hand. It was rusty and pitted, but it would undoubtedly do plenty of damage.

  "Where did you find that helmet?"

  "Yar sent it to me. In a dream!"

  "You're a thief."

  "No, I'm a priest." Tom did an excellent job of looking offended. Maybe he was. "Besides, that's the murderer calling the kettle black."

  "Dean messed up. Had to make an example. People mess up, people die. We were really lucky it was only Dean."

  "Hmph. To blame the weakest among you for your failings. Pathetic. Leaders lift others up, they don't tear them down."

  Okay... Max had probably said that as Gaius. At least once. This week.

  He felt a bit of pride just knowing Tom had actually been paying attention.

  At least enough to act like a parrot.

  The large bandit scoffed. "Preach it somewhere else. These guys only understand force. Let me give you a lesson." He shifted the sword into both hands, ready to swing.

  Max tugged his hood up.

  It was about time for the pyrotechnics.

  Tom took a deep breath, readying his mace in both hands. "Yar will embrace you soon, my son. Let her justice be done."

  The bandit let out a yell as he swung.

  Tom dropped low, like a man in prayer.

  The sword swung clean over his head.

  The cleric threw his hands into the air. "Behold!"

  Max wasn't sure what spell he cast, exactly, but the shaft of light falling from the sky struck the bandit, knocking him down into the snow.

  Those on top of the wall winced at the sudden burst of light on the dreary day.

  Max hopped up and shoved all three over the side, one by one, then knelt low against the wall and waited.

  It would be a moment before he could enter stealth again. He could use vanish, but it took too long to come back, better to save it.

  The large bandit wasn't very hurt, despite the impressive spell effects, but the talk at the wall was about how the magic had somehow yanked the men off the top. Several others had leaned out to see what happened, looking up at the spiked logs.

  The large bandit knelt in the snow, rubbing at his chin. "Heh. Is that the best your god has, priest?"

  He lurched to the side as his old mace hit the side of his head with all the force Tom could muster swinging it like a baseball bat.

  The bandit had yet to replace his helmet, and he had been unaware the blow was coming. The critical hit sent him sprawling into the snow once more.

  "Justice!" Tom cheered, mace held high. "Haha!"

  Several of the bandits had wandered out to check on those that fell from the wall. They'd taken a good bit of damage, it being fifteen feet or so... and mostly landing on their heads.

  Max held up the short sword they had found the day before, waving it above the wall at few times.

  It wasn't the best signal, but it was all he had. Spells weren't his thing, and making noise would get attention. Tom should be the only one looking his way, and even if someone else noticed, it was one of their weapons so it might not look too out of place.

  Not a great plan, but they had lemons so... lemonade.

  Without sugar.

  Lemon juice, really.

  The large bandit was alive, but his health was getting down towards fifty percent and he seemed pretty dazed. Not surprising given that if he had actually been a person he would probably start spitting out teeth
any moment now.

  Tom lifted his hands together, though he still held his mace. "Peace, brothers. Justice has been done this day. In time you will grow to understand this."

  The bandits watched him with wide eyes. It wasn't fear... they thought he was nuts.

  Understandable.

  He was walking right into the group of armed men.

  9

  "Please work. Please work. Please work." Tom muttered to himself. It probably looked like he was praying.

  He sort of was.

  But it occurred to him he totally could.

  "Yar, if you're out there... I might need a hand on this one."

  It wasn't a bad plan, really, it just... had some holes in it. Like how he was going to survive if it didn't work.

  Little piddly things like that.

  It all hinged on Yar being right, and honest. In hindsight, when nearly in striking distance of almost twenty hostile bandits... he realized the god of insanity might not be the most trustworthy.

  Too late now. In for a penny, in for a pound.

  Max was already inside. He'd tossed three out here himself, then given the signal that most if not all of the bandits were outside. That was the goal. They could handle a few. Twenty was something else.

  The bandits eyed him warily as he approached, both hands on his mace, held upright before him almost in reverence as he walked, head bowed.

  "Fear not, brothers. For today is a glorious day, is it not?"

  The mood of the crowd was hard to read. They still had weapons, and seemed willing to use them. Their faces ranged from disgust to anger.

  "Justice has been done. The lot of you may return to your homes and families. Put this misstep in your lives behind you. Live well, and Yar shall smile upon you."

  Confusion spread through them like a disease.

  They were fanned out in a semi circle around him. No one seemed to want to be the first one to strike.

  "Turn around, priest." The bandit that spoke was little more than a child. Maybe late teens? His voice cracked. "It might be bad luck to kill you, but we can't let you pass, either."

  "And why is that, my son?" He couldn't see any more bandits... if this was all of them he was good to go.

  "This is our fort. We have to hold it. If we let you through they'll come down on us." The boy hefted a rusty sword. "So turn around or I'll kill you myself."